[Bonus chapter for powerstones]
The Life Foundation. The Drake rocket. Returning to Earth in two weeks.
As these keywords synthesized in Peter's mind, an image immediately surfaced: a pitch-black, slimy entity with a row of jagged white teeth and an impossibly long tongue.
Venom. And along with him, a whole rainbow of colorful, murderous symbiotes.
The realization made Peter's breath hitch slightly. This wasn't just a threat; it was "wealth falling from the heavens!" In Peter's current estimation, the value of a symbiote suit far outweighed Tony Stark's high-tech armor.
After all, Tony hadn't experienced the Battle of New York yet. Without the influx of alien Chitauri tech, his engineering—while brilliant—hadn't leaped past the limits of modern science.
He hadn't even invented the "suitcase" armor (Mark V) yet, let alone the god-tier nanotechnology of the later films.
Current Iron Man suits were plagued by limitations: power constraints, bulky transport requirements, and freezing issues.
A symbiote, however? It was wearable 24/7, invisible under clothes, and could turn an ordinary human into a "mini-Superman" in seconds.
Even more broken was the fact that symbiotes could reproduce asexually through fission. While this usually drained the host and produced increasingly unstable, violent offspring (like Carnage), Peter had the ultimate trump card.
What was that? Talk to my Horse Talisman!
With the Horse Talisman's power to "cleanse and stabilize," almost every biological uncertainty became a certainty.
If a new spawn turned out too rebellious or insane for the Talisman to purify... well, the mother symbiote could always just re-absorb it.
Essentially, if Peter could get his hands on a single Klyntar specimen, he could mass-produce a stable "Symbiote Army."
If he equipped his Eye of Twilight and Shadow of the Kinkou (his growing team) with individual symbiote suits, his faction would instantly eclipse the Avengers.
Let the SHIELD bureaucrats or the military brass try to push him around then. Hell, let the Kree, the Chitauri, or even Thanos show up—they'd have to seriously weigh their options before facing an army of Shadow Spiders.
Peter's lips curled into a smirk. "Two weeks... the timing is perfect."
It was just enough time to let the dust settle from Kingpin's death, handle Tony's inevitable press conference, have the final "showdown" talk with his father-in-law, finish high school graduation, and launch the first generation of Unicorn tech.
By the time the Drake touched down, he'd be able to focus entirely on the "Symbiote Harvest" without any distractions.
After closing the Life Foundation files, Peter skimmed the rest of the laptop. Finding nothing else of interest, he grabbed the computer and the heavy wall safe and vanished from Fisk Tower.
His destination: a run-down law office in Hell's Kitchen.
CRASH!
Still ignoring front doors, Peter smashed through a window. Karen Page, who had just finished a shower and was wrapped in a towel waiting for Matt Murdock to return from his nightly patrol, nearly jumped out of her skin. She thought Kingpin's thugs had finally come for revenge.
As she stood there trembling, a gentle, relaxed voice drifted through the room.
"Don't be nervous, ma'am. I'm just here to see Mr. Murdock... or Daredevil, if you prefer. Could you give him a call?"
A short while later, Matt Murdock rushed into the office. The moment he stepped through the door, his expression shifted. He blurted out instinctively:
"It's you!"
Thanks to his heightened senses, Matt recognized the heartbeat, the breathing rhythm, and the faint scent immediately.
This "Arbiter" Karen had praised was the same "bastard" who had stripped him naked at Pier 9 back during their first encounter!
"Relax, Daredevil," Peter said, his tone lazy. "I'm not here for a rematch. In fact, I'm here to help."
Peter slid the laptop across the desk toward Karen. "Have your assistant read the contents to you. I think you'll find it... enlightening."
Karen, who already harbored a bit of a "fan-girl" crush on the Arbiter, leaned in. Within seconds, she gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
"My god... It's everything. Kingpin's deals with every gang in the city, detailed criminal records of his lieutenants, bribery logs..."
Daredevil stiffened. "How did you get this?"
Peter shrugged. "Simple. Kingpin annoyed me, so I killed him. I was going to burn the whole building down, but I figured this 'trash' might be useful to you.
I don't have the patience to deal with the petty paperwork of dismantling a criminal empire... so, I'm delegating it to you."
"I... I see," Matt stammered.
The "Avatar of Evil" he had spent his life fighting, the man he thought would take decades to dismantle, was just... dead.
Ripped out of the world like a weed. It was a bit of a blow to his ego, but Matt was a man of resolve. He quickly realized this was a once-in-a-thousand-year opportunity to save Hell's Kitchen.
"I understand," Matt said, his voice husky. "Thank you for bringing this to me. On behalf of the families you've just saved... thank you."
"Skip the gratitude," Peter waved him off, gesturing for Karen to copy the data onto a thumb drive.
He was taking the laptop and the safe with him. These were his "betrothal gifts" for George Stacy.
This massive mountain of political merit—if Captain Stacy could survive the fallout without being "suicided" by a corrupt system—would propel him up the ranks. He could go from Captain to Commissioner, or even Mayor, overnight.
With this gift as proof of his effectiveness and his protection of Gwen, Peter was sure "Old George" would finally let Gwen keep her mask and, more importantly, trust her to Peter.
That's the real prize, Peter thought as he stepped back out into the night, safe and laptop in hand.
Oh, and he didn't forget to swipe Karen Page's glasses on the way out. Hey, she's a named character in the lore—even "mosquito legs" provide a little bit of sacrifice points!
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